The Harbingers on the Road
by catdompteuse
Summary: The recent massacre of Carthage, Missouri has the government talking and they send the best of the best to investigate, including Booth and Brennan. They find themselves caught up in a case made by the Devil himself-literally. UP FOR ADOPTION
1. Chapter 1

Cat's Notes

I've been _dying _to do a Supernatural/Bones crossover. This is exciting!In any case, this is a tester chapter. The story is still in the works. So review and tell me what you think, even contribute ideas if you want.

The story is set in Season 5 of Bones and Supernatural after the latest episode for Bones (The Devil in the Details) and the Supernatural episode "Abandon All Hope..."

* * *

Carthage, Missouri

Doctor Temperance Brennan shifted through the rubble of the demolished building, her eyes searching for what didn't belong. One of her sturdy blue gloves caught on the sharp edge of a block, tearing harshly. She winced and stood up straight, stretching her back as she pulled out a spare from her jacket pocket. Her eyes settled just past the offending block on something that didn't appear to belong.

The removal of the block revealed what she was looking for: a charred human hand.

The hand was coal black, though she could tell that the burns had been inflicted when the person was still alive, and its fingers curled up as if trying to reach something. Sighing, Brennan picked up one of the signaling red flags and stuck it in the rumble so it stood straight and tall. Just as she turned her head to leave, another black hand caught her interest. She leaned in closer and realized that, unless the person had a birth defect where they had two right hands, there were two bodies buried under the debris. So a second red flag rose up next to the first.

Suddenly, and much to her surprise, she heard the words she never expected to hear in the dreary, literally dead town: "We found a live one!"

Just as curious as everyone else, though not quite as happy about leaving the work that needed to be done, she abandoned the collapsed building and approached the main street. A crowd was quick to form, surrounding one of the ambulances they had on standby just in case someone managed to live through the so-called _terrorist attack. _She roughly pushed herself to the front, calling out for her FBI partner. When she finally reached the front, she saw that Booth was busy interrogating the survivor before he was carted off to the nearest hospital.

The man was dirt covered specks of mud and blood on his cheeks and staining his brown slacks and white shirt. His eyes darted from one face to another, finally landing on the intimidating agent in front of him. When he spoke, his voice shook as bad as his hands and his eyes grew wide with fear.

"Y-you ar-aren't one…one of them, ar-are you?"

"One of whom?" Booth asked gently, trying not to push the man into a heart attack.

"Them!" the man cried out, panic straining his voice. The medic tried to touch his arm but he jerked away, cowering under the gaze of so many eyes. Booth, in turn, tried to put a comforting hand on the man's shoulder, but again the physical contact was avoided. His voice dropped several notches and he hissed to the tall agent, "demons."

"Demons?" Agent Booth repeated with obvious confusion.

The man nodded fervently. "They swarmed the town like locust, possessed whomever they could get inside of, and killed the rest." He licked his chapped lips. "You could tell who was a demon and who wasn't. All the demons had black eyes, black as coal."

"You're saying that demons, as in demons from hell, biblical demons, destroyed this town?" the towering agent asked the crazed man doubtfully.

Crazy took it one step forward and laughed hysterically at Booth's deduction. Suddenly, his hand lashed out quick as lightening and latched onto Booth's collar, pulling him closer. Booth quickly raised a hand to keep others from attacking the psychotic man. To his surprise, the entirety of the man's eye–pupil, iris, and sclera–became black as coal and a grin that only the crazy of the crazed could pull off spread across his thin, dried, chapped lips.

"If you want someone to blame, Agent Booth," –Booth started at the sound of his name which he never told the man coming out his mouth– "then blame Sam and Dean Winchester, for the destruction of this town and–" his grin stretched from eye to eye– "the entire world."

His fingers uncurled as he took in the agent's beyond shocked expression. Then he thrust his head towards the Heavens and opened his mouth, spewing out an opaque black fog. The mass hovered directly above the man, shifting and swirling, as the crowd stared up at. Brennan was the first to respond. Grabbing Booth's gun, she aimed upwards and shot. The bullet cut through the fog but did no damage as the blackness zigzagged into the horizon.

The man that Booth had been talking to dropped–dead long before he hit the concrete.


	2. Chapter 2

Cat's Notes

Woohoo chapter 2! Sorry, I had some company over spring break and an awful school week after spring break. Anyways, just so you know (though it is mentioned in the chapter) this takes place two weeks after the first chapter. Booth and Brennan have been at D.C. for about 2 days. There's also a bit of religion in this chapter (as there will be in the rest of the story) since Booth is Catholic (they said so in the show) and believes in demons and angels and such. He's mentioned that he does a few times.

Well, read and review! And thanks to everyone who has reviewed :)

* * *

Jeffersonian Institute

Washington D.C., District of Columbia

The few unidentified bodies came back to the institute with her. Most of the deaths were a result of murder, killed by a gunshot or knife wounds. She used previous broken bones and bone structure along with a list of possible relatives and workers in the town of Carthage to identify them.

As it turned out, two of the bodies had been the ones she found buried in the debris of the collapsed building and they were the most difficult to identify. Their death alone was enough to make heads turn in confusion and surprise. It appeared as if they had been mauled by a pack of wild dogs and finally killed by a violent explosion. The FBI had managed to collect several broken pieces that indicated a number of hand made bombs had been created and then detonated. Luckily, there were still teeth in both mouths to run a DNA sample. She would be receiving their identity in a few days.

Their skin had been completely burned, charcoal black, like the fog that everyone had seen that day. Her mind drifted to the thought of the strange occurrence. Even two weeks later, her brilliant mind was unable to provide an explanation as to what had happened, what the thick black fog was. Her partner, on the other hand, swore that he had spoken with a demon and had crossed himself right after the event happened. Ever since then, he had been attending the church much more diligently, dragging his unfortunate son with him.

Speak of the devil, she could hear her partner approaching now, shouting greetings to other Jeffersonian workers. A card swiped, allowing entrance to the platform and she turned as she pulled off her thick blue gloves.

"Hey Bones, guess what I got!" Booth waved a thick file in front of her face before taking the chance to study her. A frown appeared on his lips. "When was the last time you took a break?"

"I don't need one, Booth," she said stubbornly. Truthfully, she did need one since she had been working for nearly two days straights only taking breaks for short naps, food, and coffee.

As usual, her partner could see right through her lie. He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her in his usual friendly way. "Yeah, you do." He steered her off of the platform, giving her a chance to take off her Jeffersonian jacket. "Come on, I'll treat you to lunch."

Reluctantly, she nodded and allowed him to lead her to his car.

"So, do you have a new case?" Brennan finally asked as they drove to their favorite restaurant.

Booth handed over the file with a quick glance at his passenger. "I'm still working on what happened in Missouri, Bones. That," he pointed to the folder in her hands, "is our file on Sam and Dean Winchester."

Bones gave him an indecorous look. "Booth, you can't possibly believe what that man said," she whined, "it's illogical to believe in the ravings on the insane."

The FBI agent gave her a cold glance. "That wasn't an insane man, Bones. That was a demon."

"Booth, I've already explained that demons aren't real creatures. They were made up as a personification of evil."

"Look, Bones, I know that you're not into that God, Angels, Devil, and demons stuff, but trust me when I say that that thing we saw back in Missouri could only be a demon."

Brennan let out a sigh as, once again, his blind faith lead him off the road of logic. "No one knew what that black fog was, Booth! It could have been anything. It was unknown, undiscovered. If we don't know what it was then how can it _only_ be a demon?"

Booth leaned over to her, managing to keep them straight on the road as well. "Listen to me, Bones. When that man, creature, demon, whatever it was, grabbed me and forced me to look into his eyes his eyes turned black. Black, Bones! Now tell me, how can that happen?"

The anthropologist bit down on her lower lip and looked out the window, searching for an explanation. Red or pink could be explained by blood in the sclera. Yellow could be explained as jaundice. But black? Maybe drugs or fear caused his eyes to dilate so much all that could be seen was the pupil. So she suggested it to Booth.

He shook his head. "No way, Bones. He didn't take anything when I was with him and when he was talking to me, he wasn't scared; he was happy." His body shivered involuntarily as he recalled the grin the monster had worn.

The shiver received a questioning look from Brennan, who at that moment, realized that the insane man had actually _scared _her partner. The man that she considered insuperable, brave, her barrier from the evils of the world was scared of a crazed man and the beliefs of his religion. A frown touched her lips and she looked out the window, choosing for once to be tactful and end the strained conversation they were having.

They didn't speak again until they were seated side by side at their favorite diner for lunch. That was when Brennan finally decided to open the file that her partner had given her. Booth commented on his thoughts about certain notes written about the two men.

"Victor Henricksen was in charge of capturing the two of them," he explained, "but he was killed in a _gas explosion_, the same one that killed the Winchester brothers."

_Dead. The Winchester Brothers were dead. _"Booth, if they're dead, then why do you care so much about them? Clearly that man was lying to you if he said they caused the destruction in Missouri. Or you got the wrong Sam and Dean Winchester."

"These guys are definitely the right Sam and Dean Winchester, look at their track record, Bones, killing off an entire town fits right in with it." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "And remember that 'gut feeling' I've told you about?"

"Booth," Brennan began.

"Bones, my gut feeling is telling me that these two are still alive! They've just been hiding under the radar. Did you know that that building was so destroyed that they couldn't find any human remains? It could be possible that Sam and Dean Winchester escaped and caused the explosion that killed everyone else, including them. It'd be the perfect cover. They'd be able to do anything if the FBI thought they were dead."

Brennan pursed her lips and looked down at the paper. "It is possible," she admitted.

The agent smiled at her and then beamed when his lunch was placed in front of them. The waiter also placed a plate in front of Bones, who ate while carefully studying the file. According to the file, the brothers had broken nearly every law there was to break: fraud, trespassing, kidnapping, murder, robbery, desecration of graves. A map revealed the possible routes and cities that the brothers had been too. There was a picture of an old, black car that Dean Winchester was _extremely _fond of. A picture of the two brothers with an older man, their father she assumed based off of facial structure. Notes on the two brothers that Henrickson had written down after he talked to them during a bank holdup.

According to the notes, it was possible that the two brothers were mentally unstable. They believed that they were doing something for the greater good, not for their own.

Finally, she shut the file and looked up at her partner. "What are you planning to do?"

"I'm going to catch those bastards."

"Wouldn't you need to prove that their alive first?"

"Trust me, Bones, those two are alive and kicking."

Confusion crossed her face. "How do you know they're kicking?"

Booth sighed. "I don't Bones. It's just a saying."

"Oh."


	3. Chapter 3

Cat's Notes

So Supernatural...100th episode...Wow. I have never seen Cas so vicious before; it's kinda turn on. And you probably did not need to know that. New episode tonight! And Bones, too, though I must admit Bones is getting a bit on the boring side now. Something better happen soon. In any case, Thanks to everyone who had reviewed, added the story to favorites/alerts, whatever and feel free to review :)

* * *

The office was buzzing with laughter when he returned. Confused, Booth tapped the shoulder of the agent nearest to him. "Hey, um, what's going on around here?"

His fellow worker chuckled. "You haven't heard yet, Booth? Some crazy cop called in with this ridiculous story that her town was attacked by _zombies! _Dead serious, too! I must admit that if that was a prank call then it was pretty damn good. Lady didn't laugh once!"

"Zombies?" Booth repeated, laughter rising up in him as well. "And she expected us to believe that?"

"Sure thing, Agent! Swore her own son was one of them! And then she claims that the entire town was saved by their town drunk and two guys named Sam and Dean Winchester! Most elaborate prank story I've ever heard. Hey Agent Booth, something wrong?"

"Yea, did you just say Sam and Dean _Winchester_?" Booth couldn't believe his luck. Right after resolving to chase down these two men, a possible lead pops up right in front of him in the form of a downright ridiculous call.

"Yeah, I did. Why? Do you know them?" his coworker inquired.

"They could be the two terrorist involved in the massacre of Carthage," Booth explained briefly, his brows knitting together in thought. What was the possibility of those two names being combined in a prank call? Sure there was a slight possibility, but it was so slight he didn't want to address it. That means the call had to be real in some way or another.

"Really?" The agent laughed in disbelief and ran a hand through his hair. "Right, um, in that case we'll call her back and send an agent over to investigate once we get permission."

"Tell them that I'll go."

"Yes, sir."

Bones refused to go with him once he explained the situation. She said it was ludicrous for him to put faith in such an abstract and ridiculous phone call. Yet, after a week of calling the town's sheriff and drawing out facts, the Federal Bureau of Investigation finally decided that this was a case worth investigating. At the end of the week, Bones finally agreed to go with him if only to stop his insistent whining though she swore that if they did not discover anything after three days she'd come right back to the Jeffersonian.

For the past week, her attention had been focused on the unknowns. Their identity had finally been sent to her: Ellen and Joanna Harvelle, mother and daughter. Both mauled by dogs before being mercifully killed by an explosion they more than likely created. It was a curious thing that the FBI was unable to find any evidence of dogs. The canines had to be in the building with the two women when the explosion was detonated, yet there were no dog carcasses or bones or any indication that there were _dogs._

Brennan sighed and set aside their files. Her job was to identify the remains now ponder on why they were killed or how they even ended up in Carthage on that fateful day. That was Booth's job.

The thought of her partner reminded her that he was due any minute. Almost as if her thoughts manifested him, Seeley Booth appeared at the door and made his way to the platform. He grinned at her.

"Ready to go to good Ol' Sioux Falls, South Dakota?"

"Booth, is it really necessary that I come?" Brennan asked.

"Yea, Bones. I've already booked your flight ticket." His eyes glanced around the lab, landing on the two burned bodies lying next to each other. "Besides, a few days away from this place will do you good. Did you ever figure out who they were?" Booth nodded his head towards the two bodies.

Brennan cleared her throat. "Yes, their dentals came in yesterday. The one on the right is Ellen Harvelle and the one on the left is Joanna Harvelle."

His wandering hand picked up their files and his eyes were quick to scan over them. He wasn't expecting to find anything in their file, but imagine his surprise when a familiar name appeared. Ellen Harvelle had listed her one emergency contact as one Robert Singer, the town drunk of Sioux Falls. Why was it that he felt like he was getting into something that was way above his head?

"Any idea how they died?"

Again, Brennan cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, well, it appears as if they were mauled by dogs and then killed in an explosion."

Booth's brow shot up. "Dogs?"

"Yes, but your agents have found no indications that there were dogs in the building when it exploded."

"Right," Booth drawled, dropping Ellen's file back on the desk. "We ought to go before we miss our flight, Bones."

She slipped off her lab coat and nodded. "Where is it we're going again, Booth?"

"Sioux Falls, South Dakota, Bones."

"And why are we going there?"

"Bones, have you not listened to me for the past week?" Booth asked with a playful rejected look on his face.

"My lack of sleep has made me quite forgetful," Brennan answered as way of apology.

"Well, you've got a five hour flight to make up for that." He turned around and walked backwards for several paces until she caught up with him. "And we're going there to investigate _zombies_."

"Booth, that's ridiculous. It is physically impossible for a body or mind to return once it has died. The idea of zombies only came about because of people's innate desire to bring back a loved one though many cultures speculate that the return of the dead has dire consequences or preludes to something much more devastating. In reality, zombies are just fictional creatures created for the entertainment of the public and for movies like Chalta Purza or Michael Jackson's Thriller."

"Yeah, thanks for the history lesson, Bones. I know zombies don't exist. We're going to South Dakota because I got a lead on the Winchester Brothers."

"Really, what kind of a lead?"

"Well, according to a phone call we received from Sheriff Jody Mills, the little town of Sioux Falls, South Dakota was attacked by zombies and then saved by their town drunk and Sam and Dean Winchester."

"Booth, that sounds like nothing more than a prank phone call!" Bones objected.

Her partner sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he climbed into the driver's seat of his car. He quickly checked the back to make sure that the luggage they had stored in the trunk earlier that morning was still there. "We've already had this argument, Bones. And you agreed to come with. Your ticket's already been bought, so it's too late to turn back now."


	4. Chapter 4

Cat's Notes.

One step closer to the Winchester brothers :) And I'm sorry I took me a while to update. My AP teachers are kinda loosing it...But, testing has started and I won't be in school again until next Wednesday! Took AP Calculus today. I tell you right now: It was not as bad as the AP Chem test I took last year. But it still sucked ass. Well, one down and three to go! Wish me luck in the lovely review you plan on leaving me ;)

* * *

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

After dropping off their things in a local hotel, the first place Booth drove them to was the sheriff's office. They walked in and saw the sheriff with her back to them, fervently talking in a hushed voice on her cell phone. Bones opened her mouth to announce their rival, but Booth quickly hushed her. Clearly, he thought that they would be able to find something out by eavesdropping on the officer's conversation. And, though she did not like it, Booth's unconventional methods usually helped more than harmed so she did not argue.

"I had to report the incident!" the sheriff whispered defensively. "It's not like I expected the government to believe me! I wouldn't even believe me!"

Whoever was on the other line argued back. "Look, Bobby, I know now it was a mistake, but I have to go. They should be arriving soon." Sheriff Jody Mills turned around, gasped, and nearly dropped her phone in shock. Booth grinned and gave her a curt 'hi-we're-here' wave. "I'll talk to you later. Thank you. Bye."

Even Brennan could tell that the last portion of her conversation was meant to be a cover up. And if she could tell, then it was an awful cover up.

"Sheriff Mills?" Booth asked as he extended his hand. The sheriff was nodded, glanced at his hand and took a second before realizing that she needed to shake it. She did so before crossing her arms across her chest. "I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth and this is my partner Doctor Temperance."

"Yes, of course, I received a call that you would be here soon." The sheriff smiled thinly. "It's good to see some government officials around. The town's been in quite a shock as of late."

"So I've heard," Booth agreed. She gestured at the seats across from her desk as she took hers. Both he and Brennan sat. "Sounds like a zombie infestation. And, no offense, but it sounds just a bit farfetched."

"It _is_ farfetched," Brennan muttered.

Booth shot her a look and she restrained herself from making any further comments. "In any case, I was hoping to hear the story right from you."

Sheriff Mills' mouth tightened considerably and she looked out the window. Sweets should have come with them. Sure, the kid was young but even he had to admit that Sweets was a damn good psychologist and could probably tell him what the Sheriff was thinking. In normal circumstances, he would assume that she did not wish to recount bad memories. But after the conversation he just heard, he assumed that she was trying to think of a way to drive him and his partner away.

"About two weeks, people who were dead started coming back."

"That's not possible," Brennan interjected in her usual anthropology-proud way. "The dead cannot come back to life." Her eyes jumped to his. "Tell her Booth."

"Just let her tell her story Bones," Booth said with a soft sigh.

Jody Mills did so, telling the honest truth. At one point, when she spoke of Sam shooting her flesh craving son, tears sprang into her eyes. Booth was kind enough to find a box of tissues and give it to her. While as Brennan only scoffed in disbelief and crossed her arms. By the end of it, Booth couldn't sort his thoughts and Brennan wore a tight, disapproving frown.

"We burned all the bodies in the cemetery," Sheriff Mills said, using her hands to indicate towards the general direction of the cemetery. "And then, I called the government since there were numerous deaths involved."

"You burned _all _of the bodies?" Brennan repeated irately. The officer nodded. Immediately, the forensic anthropologist whirled on her partner. "Booth, what am I doing here? There aren't even any bodies for me to investigate!"

"Consider it a break from the Jeffersonian."

His voice was slightly dismissive as he sorted through the facts Mills had provided. The thing was he couldn't quite tell if the whole story was bogus or if there were kernels of truth hidden within it. He couldn't even think of any relevant questions to ask. So instead, he steered the conversation in the direction of Bobby Singer and the Winchester Brothers. He pulled out a folded copy of their pictures and placed them in the desk in front of her.

"Is this what Sam and Dean looked like?"

The sheriff eyes scanned the photos before scanning his face. "Why are you interested in these two boys?"

She knew them. Triumphant filled his chest as Booth realized that, against all odds, he had gotten a lead on the two brothers. "That's confidential, sheriff," he replied with a sly smile. He had really gotten them! "Do you know if they're still in town?"

Her lips tightened and she looked down at the photos. "As far as I know, they left town the morning after we burned the bodies and haven't been back," she said coldly as she pushed the photos back towards him.

Booth refolded them and put them back into his pocket. Bones picked up the conversation. "But they were in town."

Sheriff Mills gave her a dark look. "Didn't I just explain to you that they are the reason this town still _exists_?" She directed her gaze to the more reasonable person in the partnership. "Agent Booth, whatever these boys did, they have a reason for it."

"Do they have a reason for massacring an entire town?" Booth countered darkly.

"What?"

"About three weeks ago, the town of Carthage, Missouri was completely destroyed and everyone within it was killed. The only suspects we have are Sam and Dean Winchester." Mills' expression was one of complete disbelief. "Have you seen their track record, Sheriff? They're notorious for stunts like this. These are two men that _need _to be behind bars. Or better yet, dead."

"That's impossible," she whispered.

"Quite the contrary, unlike your son rising from the dead, it is quite possible," Brennan interceded

"No, no, no," Mills muttered, "these boys are out there doing _good. _They are saving people! If it wasn't for them, I would be dead. Everyone in this town would be dead!"

"Sheriff, one right doesn't fix all of the wrong that they've done," Booth said calmly as he looked into her disbelieving eyes. Seeing that he wasn't going to get anything else out of her, Booth stood and nodded in thanks. He would give her a day to cool off and think over what he had said. "We'll come back tomorrow."

Brennan quickly said her goodbyes and followed her partner out the door. "What do you think, Booth?"

"Honestly Bones, I don't know," Booth admitted. "Her story was convincing."

"No, it wasn't!" she proclaimed, "she obviously made something up in an attempt to drive us away."

"I meant that she told it in a convincing fashion," he elaborated. "It the story itself had been a bit more believable then I would have believed her."

"Yes," Bones agreed after a moment of thought. "She did tell it quite earnestly though the content of the story was completely preposterous." Booth grunted in agreement, lost in thought as he climbed into the driver's seat of his rented SUV. "Where are we going now?"

"I was thinking of paying a visit to Bobby Singer."


	5. Chapter 5

Cat's Notes

haha, you all probably thought that I had died. But nope, I just went to college. And picked three classes guarenteed to suck my soul dry. Anyways, now that I'm finally adjusted to the whole you-now-have-an-extra-20-hours-a-week-that-you-are-meant-to-use-to-study-but-instead-are-going-to-use-to-do-stupid-shit schedule I am back on trackish. I also had a bit of a writer's block so that may have contributed to the extreme delay. Sorry about that. Please forgive me.

But now I have an extra 20 hours! (that won't be used to study)

* * *

Booth had to admit that Bobby Singer's house wasn't quite up to house standards, but who was he to complain about another person's living conditions? The outside of the house was literally a car junkyard, filled with scrap metal and tools. He carefully maneuvered his car until it was parked closest to the front door.

"Alright, Bones, I want you to stand behind me, we don't quite know much about this guy," Booth ordered as they approached the door. He glanced quickly behind him and saw that his partner was holding a gun, pointing it steadily to the ground. "Where the hell did you get that?"

"Your glove compartment," Brennan answered honestly.

"Go put it back!" Booth hissed.

"You're the one who just said that we don't know much about this guy. Wouldn't it be wise if we entered the situation well prepared?" Brennan asked.

In return, her partner sighed and shook his head. "Just be careful with that thing, okay?"

"You know, Booth, I am quite capable of handling firearms," she replied confidently.

"I know, it's just…" Again, he shook his head, but this time it was because he had no logic to fight her back with. So instead, he let the topic drop and returned to the original one. "Just stay behind me, alright?" He glanced back long enough to see her nod, and then banged on the wooden door which he swore would collapse. "FBI, open up!"

From inside, Booth could clearly hear swearing. The sounds of a low, inaudible discussion came through the cracks. When he became tempted to knock again, the door swung open to reveal an aging man on a wheel chair. Standing some distance in the background was a tight-lipped man in a tan overcoat. Both men were angry about something and Booth was willing to bet that it was him they were angry about.

"FBI, huh?" the man in the wheelchair huffed. "Let me see your badge."

"Yeah, here you go." Booth handed over his badge which he pulled out of his front pocket. "Just so happens to be the real thing. You Robert "Bobby" Singer?"

"That depends on what you want him for."

"We would like to ask him a couple of questions about Sam and Dean Winchester. They are notorious law breakers that we believe our involved in a massacre in Carthage," Bones announced from behind.

Bobby stared at her as Booth muttered "good job, Bones, now he'll never talk to us," underneath his breath. "Who is she?" Bobby demanded, "And why does she have a gun?"

"She's Dr. Temperance Brennan, forensic anthropologist for the Jeffersonian," Booth explained before turning to her. "Bones, put the gun back in the car."

She didn't listen and instead indicated at the man who stiffly stood behind Bobby. "Who is he?"

Bobby glanced behind and grimaced. "That's Castiel. He's a bit…antisocial."

Castiel gave them a stiff nod of acknowledge but did nothing further to greet them. He simply remained where he was standing, leaning against the wall. Brennan stared at him warily before conceding to place the gun back in Booth's car. She would have rather kept it on her person, but there was nowhere for her to do so. By the time she returned, Booth had entered Bobby's house, if only by a step, and was scanning it cautiously while questioning the man.

"Do you know Sam and Dean Winchester personally?" Booth asked once it became obvious that Bobby wasn't about to offer him a seat.

"I was friends with their dad," Bobby answered with narrow eyes.

"So you knew them when they were younger? Have you seen them recently?" Booth pushed on.

"Last I saw of them boys was a couple months before that gas explosion," Bobby mumbled as a reply. His eyes slid over to Brennan who had wandered about the room, peeping her head into the other rooms. "Hey, watch your lady friend there!" But the damage was already done.

"Booth, come look at this!" Brennan exclaimed with an edge of excitement. With a side long look at Bobby's sour expression, Booth walked over to his partner's side and let out a low whistle at the sight of the other room.

The walls were painted with odd symbols, bullet holes punctured the wallpaper, the shredded rug did a poor job of hiding the symbol on the floor, and along the wall was a line of telephones, each labeled with a different government agency. While Booth was more preoccupied with the phones, Bones was obviously entranced by the symbols along the walls. She left his side and walked to one of them, tracing them with her fingers.

"Booth, these are symbols for protection," she explained, barely caring if her partner was listening. "Back when the druids still lived, these symbols would be painted on walls and doors to keep evil spirits from remaining in buildings or even entering. I had thought that they had been forgotten about."

"I hate anthropologists." Bobby's sour voice brought her out of her thoughts and she turned to face the curious man. "Know too much for their own good."

Booth wasn't listening to either his partner or the rambling complaints of the old man. His interest was entirely focused on the phones that lined a far wall. As he walked closer, he saw that each phone was labeled with tape. The labels held the names of different government organizations such as the FBI, CIA, and CDC. Bobby Singer was committing fraud. The agent had enough to book him.

"Hey, isn't this illegal or something?" Bobby demanded loudly.

Booth whirled to face him. "Like it's illegal to _impersonate _an agent of the FBI?"

Bobby grunted, realizing that Booth had spotted his collection of phones. He turned his wheelchair to see that the anthropologist was now leafing through his books. "Hey!" he shouted, wheeling towards her, "put that down! It's delicate!"

Her bright eyes regarded him. "I didn't even know tests like this existed!" She grinned like a child just given a present. Upon seeing his partner's face, Booth made a mental note to let Bones be one of the investigators in charge of gathering evidence within the house. Boy, she would enjoy that. "Where did you get these?"

"A friend," Bobby grumbled. "Now put it down before you tear it. It's valuable. And tell me why the hell you two are here!"

"We're here about the massacre at Carthage, Missouri," Booth explained, adjusting his tie. "I'm sure you've heard about it."

"Yeah, I've heard about it. But you nutcases came to Dakota about a massacre in _Missouri?_ Are your heads on straight?"

"We believe that Sam and Dean Winchester were involved somehow," Brennan continued. Bobby eyed her suspiciously. "As in, they may have been the cause of the massacre."

"They weren't," said the previously silent Castiel.

"They weren't what?" Booth pressed looking at the eerie man. He seemed almost awkward as he attempted to communicate.

"They weren't exactly the cause of the massacre," Castiel continued. "They did start the apocalypse, but the massacre at Carthage was Lucifer's doing."

Bobby groaned and ran a hand down his face while Brennan seemed startled and Booth attempted to sort through the new information. "Whoa, wait a second, you're saying the Winchester Brothers started the end of the world, but the _Devil _killed everyone in Carthage?"

Castiel thought it over for a moment before nodding. "Yes, that's right."

Of course, Brennan with her 'the-Devil-isn't-real' stance said in a quiet stern voice, "that's impossible" but was drowned out by Bobby's "Castiel, keep your damn trap shut!" Immediately, the man seemed to realize he had said something that he shouldn't have and fell silent again, brooding against the wall.

Bobby shot the younger man a warning glare before returning his attention back to Booth. "Look," he paused for a moment trying to remember Booth's name. He couldn't. "Agent, those two boys don't have anything to do with Missouri cause they're _dead._" He especially stressed the dead part.

"Not according to the sheriff," Booth countered. "Unless those two guys have clones running around, then Sam and Dean were in this town a week ago."

Bobby swore under his breath. "Those damn boys never dropped in to see me."

"Are you sure about that? Cause the sheriff told me that you worked together with the two boys to save the town from zombies." Booth grinned knowing by Bobby's deer-in-the-headlights look that he had caught the old man. "Now, if you don't want me dragging you to jail for impersonating a government agent then I suggest you start telling the truth."

"Oh!" Brennan exclaimed, "And Booth is very good at telling whether or not you are lying."

She smiled whereas Bobby scowled. "Alright, fine, you two want the truth? The truth is that you are in way over you're head!"

Booth rolled his eyes and began to pull out his handcuffs. "Alright fine, I've dealt with guys like you before." He grabbed Bobby's hands and immediately the old man began to put up a fight. "You think that we can't handle the truth, you're crazy twisted reasoning so you just don't tell us."

"Wait."

Booth glanced up expecting to see that Castiel had moved in an attempt to assist Bobby. Instead he found himself looking directly at Sam Winchester.


	6. Chapter 6

Cat's Notes

You're granted permission to chuck hard, virtual objects at me. I deserve it.

But here's your update. :) :)

Also, since I'm such an awful updater and author (cause I never update), I'm interested in finding a co-author for this story. For one, I have no idea where this story is going...at all. It's going somewhere though. And I think having a co-author who has some of their own ideas would be really helpful. Even if you're not interested in writing the story, then suggestions for the story would be appreciated. Second, having another author would probably equal more frequent updates. If your interested, then just send me one of those fanfic emails (I get it in my actual email...like everyone else).

Um, yeah. Also, criticism is welcomed! I'm in a creative writing class this semester (along with five other classes that will **not **suck my soul dry), so I'm trying to improve :) Thankies.

* * *

"Sam," Castiel greeted coolly while Booth dropped his handcuffs.

Immediately, the agent pulled out his gun, cocked it and pointed at Sam Winchester. "You are under arrest for-"

"Whoa man!"

"-first degree murder-"

"Hey, look, let's just talk-" Sam moved to take a step forward.

To his surprise, the agent fired a shot. He heard fly past him and turned to see a new hole in Bobby's wall. "Don't move! I will shoot!"

"Yeah! I know, you already did!" Sam exclaimed, indicting at the hole. Sam held up his hands, proving that he had no weapon in them. "Look, Agent Booth, I just want to talk to you. I can explain everything."

"Everything?" Booth asked coldly. He didn't let it show that Sam's use of his name had chilled him. The fugitive had been in the house the entire time and he didn't once feel it or suspect it. Where was that intrusive gut feeling when he needed it the most?

Sam sighed and lowered his guard ever so slightly. "Yes, everything."

"Including all of the grave desecrations, the murders, the massacre at Catherage?" Booth asked. His gun hadn't been lowered at all. Sam was eyeing it warily but didn't seem to be all that worried.

"Yes, I can explain it." Booth remained suspicious. Behind him, Sam could see his partner studying him curiously. "The only thing I ask is that you keep an open mind."

Booth started laughing. "Tell me one reason I should."

"Hendrickson understood."

The statement got underneath Booth's skin. Was this strange man he never even heard of suggesting that Hendrickson had talked with the Winchester brothers? That, in some way or another, cooperated with criminals. It didn't make much sense. In fact, it didn't make any sense.

"What do you mean?" Booth demanded.

Sam took in a deep breath. "We didn't kill Hendrickson. He helped us escape. And then Lillith killed him."

"Lillith?"

"Yes, she's a demon. According to The Bible, the first demon Lucifer ever made."

Behind Booth, his oddly silent partner's eyes lit up. "You do realize that Lucifer and Lillith are not real, correct?"

Sam looked at her. "No, trust me, they are as real as you and me. Except, now, Lillith is dead."

"Wait a second," Booth jumped in. For the first time since Sam had entered the room, the gun had lowered ever so slightly. "You're telling me that demons are real?"

Sam hesitated for a moment. "Yes, they're real. Monsters are real. My brother and I, we hunt them."

As expected, the agent didn't believe him in the slightest. Instead, he began to laugh. His partner on the other hand regarded him skeptically. If he had heard correctly, then she was an anthropologist. He had a better chance of making her understand than the agent who seemed determine to arrest him.

"Doctor Brennan," Sam addressed her directly and she caught his eyes. "You've studied mythology?"

"Of course I have," she scoffed, "I'm an anthropologist."

Sam smiled, realizing that she took pride in her work. "They're real. Pagan mythology, Native American mythology. All of them have a seed of a truth in them, it's just a matter of finding it."

Brennan continued to study him, contemplating what he just said. Finally, she conceded. "It's a logical possibility. The Pagans did truly believe in what they were writing. It's obvious in their rituals and worship that they believed their gods were real. But there is no proof that they exist."

"Whoa, Bones! You're siding with this nutcase?" Booth exclaimed.

"No, Booth, I'm not siding with anyone. I am simply admitting that there is a possibility that there is truth in certain myths."

Booth grinned, a look of amusement in his eyes. "So tell me, Sam, does Santa exist?"

Sam chuckled, knowing that the agent was poking fun at him. "Agent, what do you see beside me?"

Booth glanced at Castiel. "Castiel."

"And what is he?"

"A _homo sapien_," Brennan answered using her fancy technical terms.

Castiel laughed lightly as Sam raised a brow. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure." Brennan pursed her lips obviously confused. "What else could he be?"

"I am an Angel of the Lord," Castiel replied without a hint of sarcasm.

Immediately Booth's gun shifted from Sam to Castiel. Trying to trick him into believing impossible stories was one thing and one thing he could understand, but attacking his religion was an entirely different matter. Castiel eyed the weapon but didn't care that it was pointed at him.

"Booth, I believe all three of them are psychotic," Brennan said none-too-softly behind him. Sam exchanged a knowing look with Bobby. Apparently it wasn't the first time such a label had been taped on their backs.

"Trust me, Doctor Brennan, we're telling the truth," Sam assured.

Booth scoffed, "yeah, telling the truth. There's no way that guy is an angel." He waved his gun at Castiel who frowned disapprovingly but did nothing to contradict him. "See, he can't even prove it to us."

Castiel regarded him with cool eyes; the gun that had been trained on him for the past several minutes didn't cause him any worries. "Seeley Booth, you are a good man. You have faith and now is a time I request you use that faith. I _am _an Angel of the Lord." The gun lowered ever-so-slightly. Booth's hand quivered at the sound of Castiel's sudden authority. "I am an Angel and I am trying to stop your world from ending. To do so, I need Sam and Dean's help and your cooperation."

Brennan could see that their words had affected her partner. Yet she wasn't about to be wooed by a crazy man's words on religion. She had always warned Booth that his religion would get him into trouble. She touched his shoulder, reassuring him that she was still there and that he still existed. "Booth, he isn't an angel; he's just a man and a psychological insane one at that. You can't trust these men; they're murderers."

"I take it you don't believe in angels, Doctor Brennan," Sam said calmly.

"I do not," she replied soundly.

"Joy Keenan," Castiel said suddenly. "That is your given name, is it not, Joy?"

Booth cocked the gun again, holding it steady against Castiel who seemed unaware of the danger. His hand became steady again as he perceived the man a threat to his partner. Brennan eyed Castiel carefully; she was shaken by the information he had presented her with. Only a small circle of people knew her real name and the circle certainly didn't include an insane man possibly involved in the murder of hundreds.

"How do you know that?" Brennan demanded after she took a second to swallow the information. "I'm sure I didn't tell you. Did you break into federal records?"

"I did not. It is simply the name given to you by your parents. I know the names of nearly every person on this earth."

Booth barked out another laugh. "Alright, you know what, enough of this, all three of you out of the house."

"Agent Booth," Sam started but was quickly interrupted by Booth's sharp command for the three of them to get out of the house. None of them moved and their lack of action obviously aggravated the agent even further. "Look, if you'd just put the gun away and sit down—"

"Hey, now, I'm the one with a gun, so I'm the one in charge! And I'm telling you to get out of the house!"

"Alright, alright, we're going." Sam shot a warning look at Castiel before slowly walking out of the house with his hands up in the air. Castiel may be unaffected by bullets, but Sam and Bobby were not and the FBI agent had already demonstrated the fact that he was not afraid to shoot.

"Where is Dean?" Brennan asked as Sam walked out the door.

"Gone," Castiel replied with a slight amount of irritation. "I can't find him anywhere."

"You still can't find that damn boy?" Bobby snapped as he rolled his wheelchair behind Sam.

Castiel sighed and shook his head. "No, I cannot. I'll go and see if I can find him in some of the nearby cities. Seeley Booth, you are making a mistake by arresting Sam."

"Oh, you aren't going…"

"Booth!" Brennan exclaimed. She had noticed the same thing he had.

Castiel was gone.


	7. AN

Cat's Notes

Hi everyone!

Regrettable this author's note is not a good one.

I don't believe I'll be able to finish this story. I simply have no inspiration for it and I'm not sure where it's gonna go. I will, though, put it up for adoption. If you want to adopt this story, just send me a message. I'm going to delete it in a week(ish). So let me know if you're up to the task of finishing it!

I'm really sorry :(

The qualms of a drifting minds, if only ideas came with complete plot lines.


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